


back for you

by happilylarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Make-up, Military AU, Minor Injured Harry, Sad!Louis, Soldier!Harry, break-up, non descriptive smut, war wound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 16:10:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3176947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happilylarry/pseuds/happilylarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>harry and louis break up twelve hours before harry gets deployed to afghanistan. cue six months of upset louis and upset harry</p>
            </blockquote>





	back for you

**Author's Note:**

> my attempt at a military one shot
> 
> i tried my best!
> 
> not edited so oops

Harry's been gone for three months now, and it still surprises Louis when he rolls over in the mornings and he's alone. It takes reality a few seconds to set in, and then he's sad again. He tries not to be, because deep down, he knows that if anything happened to Harry, he'd be the first to know. The boys will come over every now and then to cheer him up, especially if there's been some not-so-great information on the news. They know Louis watches it religiously. He has the news channel playing twenty-four-seven, and he sometimes stays up late to watch it. Harry hates it when he does that. He doesn't want Louis to worry, but he's not here to stop the boy from binge watching it, so he can't really do anything. Louis wishes he could.

 

-

 

They met when Louis was in high school. He was about to graduate and Harry was already in Uni. It wasn't really a shock to anyone when they started dating because they were inseparable from the get-go. They were passionate and in love, and they never failed to show each other how much they meant it. Wherever Harry went, Louis was there, holding his hand. Same with Louis. You never got one without the other.

 

They were a package deal; the dream team. They were dubbed the power couple from their friends, and they took it with pride. They rarely fought, but when they did, it was loud and explosive. They never, ever said things that the other was insecure about. Harry knew that Louis had his insecurities, and he would rather throw himself in front of a train than to use it against Louis. Louis was the same way. Their last fight was the worst, the absolute worst. Louis still thought about it, day after day, night after night. They never even really made up, either. And it was all Louis could think about.

 

-

 

“If you would just listen for _two_ seconds-” Harry shouted, slamming his fist down onto the counter-top. He was currently in a stare-down with Louis, his pride and joy, the love of his life. He hated fighting with Louis, but the boy was so damn stubborn.

 

“You're just going to say the same exact thing! I've heard it enough!” Louis shouted back, with as much force. Harry was surprised that the dishes in the cabinets weren't shaking already.

 

“Why can't you just shut up and let me talk?” Harry was getting frustrated, down to the point where he was actually thinking about hurting Louis on purpose just so the defensive boy would shut up.

 

“I don't want to hear anything you have to say!” Louis crossed his arms and cocked a hip.

 

“That's nothing new! It's always about you-always has been, and always will be!”

 

Louis scoffed. “What's that supposed to mean?”

 

“It means that this isn't even a relationship anymore! You constantly make everything about you!” Harry told him, his voice now permanently raised.

 

“That's a lie and you know it!” Louis cried. “Everything is always about you! 'Oh, look, I'm Harry. Pity me because I'm going to war in a few weeks'.”

 

Harry's eyes narrowed. “I have never used my status for anything and you know it.” He said menacingly. “And what about you? Hm? You're _always_ playing the victim card and I'm sick of it! People pity you, you know that, right?”

 

“Why in the bloody fuck would anyone pity me?” Louis asked between clenched teeth.

 

“Because you're you!” Harry yelled. “You've barely got friends and not even your own family wants to see you! It's a right laugh, Louis.”

 

Louis clenched his jaw. “You think it's my fault that my family doesn't want to see me? No! It's yours! I was fine until you came along!”

 

“Perfect! I was looking for the best moment to break up with you, and it's just presented itself!” Harry roared. “And the best part is-tomorrow I'll be thousands of miles away from you!”

 

Louis dropped his arms and followed Harry as he stormed out of the kitchen and into their bedroom. He began to furiously pack a bag.

 

“You're honestly breaking up with me twelve hours before you get deployed? Classic Harry.”

 

Harry whirled around to face him. “Yes, I am. Because I would rather be shot at than come home to you.”

 

There have been times when Louis thought that his world was shattering, and he'd been mistaken. But this time, his world was definitely gone. It happened so quickly, like he was standing in a dark room with a single, flickering light bulb. It made his head hurt and his eyes wince, and then, complete darkness.

 

-

 

When Harry had left, slamming the door so hard that their two year anniversary picture fell to the ground and shattered, only then did he allow himself to cry, kneeling in a puddle of broken glass. He didn't know how long he'd cried, sobbing into his hands and cutting his knees with the glass. He'd never cried as hard in his entire life as he did then. Harry had actually left him, searing him with words of truth, words that he'd promised that he'd never use. It burned Louis to the core, severing his heart and cutting his soul into tiny pieces. He loved Harry with every fiber of his being and he didn't know how to live without him.

 

-

 

Harry's flight left at eight the next morning and Louis was going. He was going to go and apologize to Harry and beg for him to take him back. His knees ached and his head hurt, but damned if he'd his favorite person in the world go to combat without seeing him one last time. He called Niall, trusty Niall, and his Irish friend was there in five minutes, honking the horn outside their apartment building.

 

Louis had hobbled outside, wincing at his cut knees, and folded himself into the car. Niall had only stared for a moment before driving off. He knew he looked like hell. Messy hair, red cheeks, tired eyes. None of that was important right now. He just wanted to see Harry before he left. He needed Harry to know that they were forever.

 

The airport, like any other, was crowded. Louis had a hard time finding the flight and almost had a panic attack. Thankfully, Niall asked someone, and thirty seconds later, they were rushing towards the other end of the airport, dodging people and their bags. Louis spotted uniforms and he slowed to a stop, looking around. He searched for a head of curls and couldn't find it.

 

Panic set in again. The flight was called over the speakers and the men and women in uniform began to line up, boarding the plane.

 

“There!” Niall pointed, just when Louis had given up. Harry was standing next to a fellow soldier, talking and holding his boarding pass. His duffle was slung over his shoulder and he looked so handsome. Louis wanted to cry again.

 

“Harry!” Louis shouted. He saw the exact moment Harry heard. He saw how Harry lifted his head and swiveled it around, searching for the voice that called his name. He saw how Harry's eyes met his briefly, before the man was turning and handing his boarding pass to a very pretty woman with a fake smile. He stood there in hurt and confusion. Harry had actually left him without saying goodbye. That could be the last time he ever saw Harry, and his heart clenched. Harry could die hating him.

 

-

 

Niall and Liam were coming over today, or later tonight. Louis didn't know which. He had no concept of time now. His mind was on a constant loop of worrying and worst-case-scenarios. It wasn't healthy. Especially because it kept him up at night. He'd tidied their flat up, but he left every single one of Harry's belongings alone. He let them lay in their same positions. He didn't want to touch them. He'd even left the broken picture frame on the floor, still surrounded by glass. It served as a reminder to him.

 

The boys knocked around eight, busting inside the flat with bags of takeout. They stepped over the glass, not questioning it anymore, and hung their coats up, shaking the cold, September chill from their bones. They sat the bags on the coffee table and began to pass out chopsticks. Neither of them commented on how sick Louis looked, or how miserable. They'd learned not too.

 

Once they were all three on the couch, eating from their own white containers, Liam spoke. “How've you been, Lou?” He asked, picking around some rice. Beside him, Louis shrugged.

 

“Good, I guess.” He responded. It hurt Liam to see his best friend like this, almost as much as it hurt him to know that his other best friend was acting the same way, only he was in Afghanistan, fighting a war.

 

“That's great.” Liam said enthusiastically. “Hey, Niall and I are going shopping tomorrow, wanna come?”

 

Niall nodded eagerly. “Yeah, it'll be sick, mate.” Louis thought about it. It would honestly be the first time he's left the flat in three months for something other than a quick run to Tesco.

 

“I guess. I've been meaning to get some stuff for the flat anyway.”

 

Niall frowned. Their flat was pretty nice. “Like what?” Louis shrugged and picked at his chicken.

 

“New drapes for the bedroom. The blender crapped out the other day.”

 

“Well, we'd be happy to help you.” Liam said. “Change is good every now and then.”

 

Louis just nodded.

 

-

 

Louis got his blender and his drapes. He also got a cookbook because no matter where they went, Harry never failed to get a cookbook. They had shelves of them at home. He didn't know if they had this one, but the picture on the front made his mouth water, so he got it anyway. He'd just check when he got home. He'd wandered off by himself after Liam and Niall had gotten a little too handsy for his liking in a shoe store. Wandering aimlessly, he turned his head at the loving couples. Soon, he found himself in front of a pet store.

 

Curiosity got the best of him and he meandered in. He could hear little yips from the puppies and mewls from the kittens. He was staring into a fish tank when someone approached him.

 

“Can I help you find anything?” A tinkly, high pitched voice asked him. He turned and stared at the sales associate named Kendra.

 

“Um, not really. Just looking.” He replied, shifting his bags from one hand to the other.

 

Kendra grinned. “Well, when you're just looking, be sure to take a gander at the puppies we have. They're guaranteed to put a smile on your face.” She said brightly before turning on her heels to go and persuade a different customer.

 

He took his time, looking into different cages and tanks, until he was breaching the section where the happy puppies and kittens were housed. He took a deep breath and began to look into the little fences on the floor. There were puppies bouncing off of each other, different sizes and breeds. It confused him that they weren't separated by breed, but he shrugged it off.

 

A little yip caught his attention and he turned to the corner, seeing a small, black and white ball of fur staring at him. He sat his bags on the ground and dropped to his knees. He lifted the puppy out of the fence and was attacked by a warm, wet tongue. The puppy yipped and yapped happily, pawing at him. It was fuzzy and soft and he was in love.

 

Behind him, Niall and Liam slowed down, staring at the sight in front of them. They'd been looking everywhere for Louis and they'd finally found him. He looked happier than he'd been in three months.

 

Niall elbowed Liam. “Betcha he buys it.”

 

Liam elbowed him back. “Betcha he names it after Harry.”

 

-

 

Liam was wrong. Partially wrong, he would correct. Louis had bought the dog and enough food and toys to last it forever and named him Scout Styles. The whole way home, he was holding it and cooing quietly to it. Liam and Niall had to carry in Louis' purchases because Louis was too busy letting the dog relieve himself outside. Soon, they were surpassed by a black ball of energy in the halls, almost tripping them.

 

The elevator ride was fun, with Scout running circles around their feet happily. As soon as Louis opened the door to he flat, the puppy was off like a shot, sniffing out everything and finally settling himself on the floor by the fireplace, staring at the three humans.

 

“Are you sure you can take care of a puppy?” Liam asked after sitting the numerous bags of stuff on the kitchen table. He left out the _because you can barely take care of yourself_.

 

Louis looked up and nodded. “Scout and I are ready to go.” He replied. He pulled a toy out of the bag and squeaked it once, getting the attention of the dog. He launched it down the hallway and laughed as Scout ran after it eagerly. Liam didn't say anything after that, mainly because it was the first time he'd heard Louis laugh in months.

 

-

 

The next Monday, Liam accepted a call from Harry. He listened to the recorded message from Camp Bastion before accepting immediately. It was quiet on the other end, save for Harry's breathing.

 

“Hey mate.” He greeted. Niall was in the kitchen. He didn't want to be any part of this, and by this, he means Harry calling Liam every Monday instead of Louis.

 

“Hey, Li.” Harry said. His voice sounded rougher, or maybe it was just Liam's imagination.

 

“So...how are you?” Liam asked. He honestly had no idea what to say to Harry. They'd run out of things to talk about.

 

Harry huffed a little laugh. “Small talk, Li?” He asked. “I'm fine. Great, even. It's pretty hot over here.”

 

“Not so much over here. Beginning of November and there's already frost on the windows. It's not fair.” Liam looked out the window.

 

“I'll trade you. I'd do anything right now to be cold.” Harry said.

 

“How's Niall?”

 

“Niall's great.” Liam replied, hearing the kitchen go quiet. He didn't mention that Niall hated Harry for what he did to Louis, even though it was on the tip of his tongue. “Been busy with Uni, you know.”

 

“Yeah.” It was quiet for several seconds before Liam spoke again.

 

“Hey, two more months and you'll be home, right?”

 

“Home for Christmas.” Harry agreed. “Mum was thrilled when I told her. She cried so hard Robin had to take the phone from her.”

 

“Yeah...” Do not mention Louis' birthday, Liam James Payne. Absolutely do not. “Niall's already started breaking out the Christmas decorations.” He mentioned Christmas as many times as possible because he knew that it was a special holiday for him and Louis. Harry was quiet on the other end. “Mate, you still there?” He asked.

 

Harry cleared his throat. “Yeah, 'm still here.” His voice sounded tight all of a sudden, and Liam hoped he was thinking about the brokenhearted boy he'd left at home four months ago.

 

“So what's-”

 

“I got shot.” Harry interrupted him. The breath punched out of Liam and he went still.

 

“Wait, what?” He asked in a high voice. “You got _shot_?” There was a clattering in the kitchen and ten seconds later, Niall came into the living room, looking bewildered.

 

“Yeah, um. At the end of September. Hit me right in the chest.” He said quietly.

 

Liam breathed heavily. “And you're just now telling me? Jesus, Harry!” He exclaimed.

 

“I didn't want to worry anyone. Didn't even tell me mum.” “Didn't want us to worry?” Liam asked incredulously. From beside him, Niall rubbed his arm comfortingly.

 

“This'll set Louis back.” He muttered, looking up at Liam. On the other end of the phone, Harry's voice caught.

 

“What did he say?”

 

“Um,” Liam stuttered. They hadn't talked about Louis. “Niall just mentioned that this would be hard for Louis to hear...”

 

“Don't tell him.” Harry demanded. He didn't sound angry, he just sounded frantic. Liam wondered why.

 

“He deserves to know.” Liam countered.

 

“Why? We're not dating anymore.” Saying that hurt Harry more than the gunshot wound. He remembered what his last words to Louis were. _I would rather be shot at than come_ _home to you_. Now it was coming true and there was nothing he wanted more than to be at home, safe with Louis.

 

“Then tell him that.” Liam said with force. “Because he doesn't even know if you're alive, Harry. That's not fair to him. He's got the news playing all day and night. He doesn't sleep, and he barely eats.”

 

“That's not my problem anymore.” Harry said weakly.

 

“Alright, that's fine. But when I go over to his flat tonight and tell him that you've been shot and that you're really not going to come home to him, I'll have to pick up the pieces, again.”

 

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. “How...is he...is he bad?” He finally asked. He had to know.

 

Liam sighed. “He wasn't for a few months. It's gotten a lot better. He's just now going into your guys' bedroom again for the first time since you left.”

 

Harry let out a long breath. “Good, good.” He said.

 

Liam pinched the bridge of his nose to keep from crying. “Harry-” He choked out. “If anything happens to you-”

 

“It won't.” Harry interrupted.

 

“But if it _does_ ,” Liam said louder. “It's going to kill him. I swear to God, Harry Edward Styles, if you come back in a casket, he won't be the same. I promise you that.”

 

Harry sniffled on the other end. Here he was, three thousand miles away, crying into a phone. “I won't. I'm going to come home, Liam.”

 

Liam let out a shuddering breath. “You'd better.” He cleared his throat. “And if you come home with any more battle scars, I'll kill you myself.”

 

Harry laughed wetly. “I won't.”

 

-

 

Harry was gone for their three-year anniversary. Louis stayed in bed all day, laying on Harry's side of the bed. Scout laid next to him, content to just be with his owner. He wanted nothing more than to sleep, so that's what he did.

 

-

 

On November first, Louis began to cook. He couldn't cook for shit, Harry would always tell him. But he tried anyway. Some of the first few batches of things came out wonky, but he caught on. It started with him organizing the cookbooks Harry had by alphabetical order. He didn't like that, so he did it by genre, and then back to alphabetical. He got to reading one, and it inspired him. It was Harry's favorite cookbook, with stained and rumpled pages.

 

He shed a few tears while mixing the dough for bread, and he sniffled into the cake batter, but all was well after that. Cooking was something he enjoyed now. It gave him something to do, something with a set schedule that could not be messed with lest it be ruined. He liked things like that. His neighbors were surprised when he surprised them with something he'd made; whether it be cake, cookies, muffins, or bread. Most of his neighbors were elderly, and he sat with them for awhile, knowing that their families never did. He couldn't imagine anyone ignoring anyone else in their family, but he was in the same boat. And it sucked.

 

He'd even surprised Liam and Niall with a basket of stuff he'd made. They were shocked, to say the least, and a bit hesitant to eat it, but they were pleasantly surprised. He beamed at them when they showered praises upon him. He finally had something to take his mind off of everything.

 

-

 

Cleaning was what he did next. The whole flat was soon spotless from top to bottom. Couches and chairs were vacuumed, things were dusted, and dishes were organized. He'd even cleaned their closets, were a crazy mess of stuff. Harry's closet wasn't that bad, just a few fallen jumpers on the floor. He picked them up and folded them, slinging them to the top shelf, trying to get them to stay.

 

They did, but something didn't. A small, black velvet box landed at his feet. He stared at it for what seemed like hours. Finally, after getting over his crippling fear of what could be inside of it, he kneeled on the carpet and picked it up. He took a breath and cracked it open. And immediately burst into the ugliest sobs he'd ever produced. Inside, sitting proudly, was a white gold engagement ring. The band was twisted and there was a small diamond set right in the middle of it. It was breathtaking and it was his. Would have been, he corrected bitterly.

 

He sat there and cried until his knees and lower back ached and Scout began to whine. He allowed himself a few more seconds to stare at it before tossing it back on top of the sweaters and slamming Harry's closet door shut. He latched Scout up to a leash and rode the elevator down to the lobby. He left out the back way, into a little garden. He tossed a ball around for awhile, watching Scout chase after it eagerly. He cut their outside time short, mainly because he didn't have a jacket and it was freezing outside. Back inside the flat, he lit the fireplace and Scout curled up in front of it while he ordered a pizza. He would have cooked, but all of the recipes were for two.

 

-

 

December marked the fifth month of Harry's deployment and Louis tried his best to ignore it. He wondered briefly if he should start packing Harry's things up so that when he got back, he wasn't burdened with sticking around long enough to pack it himself. He didn't, mainly because he was too busy trying to decorate for Christmas.

 

He'd already set the tree up and put the ornaments and lights on it, and they were twinkling happily. He just had to break out the Christmas pillows and blankets and the garland and he was pretty much done. Scout loved the new pillows on the couch and chairs, and he hopped from one to the other, laying on each. Louis strung the garland over each doorway and called it quits.

 

It was merry inside and out, but him, not so much. His birthday was in twenty-four days and he would have no one to spend it with. Liam and Niall were going to Wolverhampton. They would usually go to Cheshire and stay with Harry's family, but that was no longer an option. He would have to spend Christmas by himself, but that was okay. He could watch Christmas movies and order something and then go to sleep. It would be fine.

 

-

 

Under his tree, he had a few presents. A couple for Niall and Liam, a few for Scout, and one for Harry. He'd bought it months ago, long before Harry left, and it's been wrapped since June. It didn't feel right to leave it out, so he'd stuck it under the tree, towards the back.

 

He couldn't stand to look at it. It had cost him a fortune and he'd had to work overtime to get the money, but it was worth it. Harry had been wanting it for ages, and now he had it. Normally, Louis wouldn't even think about buying something that expensive, but he knew that Harry would look dashing in it. [A Cashmere scarf from Burberry,](http://us.burberry.com/typographic-print-cashmere-scarf-p39636671) in green. He could imagine Harry wearing it everywhere, the green of the scarf bringing out the green of his eyes. It made Louis' heart hurt and he couldn't even return it.

 

-

 

On December 24th, Liam and Niall came over with cake and presents. Louis was in a funk and it cheered him up slightly to have his two best friends over for his birthday, even if they couldn't stay long. He ate their cake and opened their presents (wool socks from Niall and jacket from Liam, both of which he needed very much).

 

They talked for awhile before Liam checked his watch, claiming it was time to hit the road. They pulled him into a bear hug and kissed the side of his head.

 

“We'll call you tomorrow, Lou.” Niall promised, patting Scout on the head. Louis nodded and watched the door shut behind them. Once again, he was left with his own thoughts. Throughout the day, he'd made himself busy, shopping for groceries, walking Scout, attempting to build a snowman with two and a half inches of snow on the ground, and watching Christmas movies. He ordered takeout, Chinese because they were the only ones open on Christmas Eve, and ate quietly, watching Home Alone. It was fitting to his situation, and he'd laughed a bit at the irony.

 

When he was done, he packed the food into the fridge and put some kibble into Scout's bowl. He turned the television off and left the Christmas tree on. Scout followed him into the bedroom and hopped onto the bed while Louis pulled back the covers. He always slept on Harry's side now, not that it smelled like him anymore, but it made him feel safe. He hummed a Christmas tune to himself and wished himself a happy birthday before drifting off.

 

-

 

When he woke up, he was surprised to find it wasn't morning. It wasn't even midnight. He laid his head back down on the pillow and closed his eyes, trying to go back to sleep. It wasn't a few seconds later that he sat back up again, heart thumping. He heard something thud and then nothing. It couldn't have been Scout, because Scout was sitting alert on the edge of the bed. Another thud and then footsteps.

 

They weren't coming into the bedroom, thank God. He slid out of bed quietly and shuffled to the bedroom door, creaking it open. He could hear some rustling sounds and very quiet humming, which was odd. What burgler/murderer hummed? He cracked the door open more and tiptoed down the hallway, Scout following close behind. There wasn't anyone in the living room, but there was a familiar looking green bag sitting on the floor beside the door, next to a pair of boots.

 

He turned on his heel and rubbed his eyes. It was too early for his mind to be playing tricks on him. He heard something beep and he snapped his head up. Someone was in the kitchen...using his microwave? He stepped quietly down the hallway, stopping when he was in the doorway of the kitchen.

 

Harry was leaning over the counter, barefoot and still wearing his Army uniform. There was a plate of food in the microwave and he was tapping his fingers impatiently. Louis held onto the doorway with one hand and moved from one foot to the other, watching as quietly as he could, which wasn't that long, because Scout deemed Harry a threat and launched himself at the tall man in the kitchen.

 

Harry cursed and turned quickly. He caught Louis' eye and stilled. A few minutes of staring passed before he cleared his throat. Louis was crying before Harry even said anything. “Um,” Harry said, in that sweet, deep, rough voice that Louis loved so much. “Happy birthday.”

 

Louis didn't reply, he just shoved the palms of his hands onto his eyes and cried harder. Sobs were wracking his small body and Harry felt helpless. War, he could do. Seeing Louis cry, absolutely not. He tripped over his feet rushing over to Louis and almost stepped on the little fuzzball on the floor, but he managed to get his arms wrapped around his one and only.

 

Louis struggled to get out of Harry's tight grip, shoving and hitting wherever he could. It was no match for Harry, who'd only grown stronger during the six months he was gone, but he let Louis' little fists hit him. Soon, the smaller boy had given up energy and latched onto Harry, crying into his neck. Harry held him tighter and lifted him up off the ground. Louis wrapped his legs around Harry's waist, clinging onto him.

 

The microwave beeped behind them. They ignored it in favor of holding each other. Harry was crying too, but his were quieter. Louis pounded his fists a few times against Harry's broad back before digging his nails into Harry's shoulder blades. Harry walked them into the master bedroom and laid down on the bed, Louis on top of him. He rubbed Louis' back until the boy fell asleep.

 

He wiped the tears from their faces and rolled Louis off of him, tucking the smaller boy in. He changed out of his uniform and pulled on some sweats and a jumper. He went back into the kitchen to eat quickly. He didn't want Louis waking up and thinking that Harry'd left him again.

 

When he was done, he hightailed it back to the bedroom and crawled into bed. In his sleep. Louis moved closer to Harry until you couldn't tell where which one began and which one ended.

 

-

 

In the morning, Harry woke up alone, or so he thought. He sat up to find Louis sitting at the end of the bed, cross-legged and holding a mug of tea. They stared at each other for a moment before Louis spoke.

 

“I should have changed the locks.” He said quietly, staring down at his tea. Harry's breath caught in his throat. “But,” He continued. “I'm glad I didn't.”

 

“Louis,” Harry started. “What happened six months ago should have never happened. I'm so ridiculously in love with you and I will never forgive myself for what I said to you, and you shouldn't either. I hate myself for it.” Louis wiped his eyes and Harry continued. “I went to war without telling the one person on earth who means more to me than life itself how much I love them.” He put his face in his hands. “Fuck. The look on your face...it's burned in my mind. That's the only thing I saw these past six months.”

 

“You really hurt me.” Louis said, picking at a thread on the blanket. “I had no idea if you were even alive. And then all of a sudden, you show up here. I didn't know if I wanted to kill you or kiss you.”

 

Harry lifted his head and sniffled. “Can it please be the last one?” He begged. “I've gone six months without touching you. You can kick me out afterwards, I just need to touch you.” Louis hesitated, then nodded. He'd missed Harry so much, and now the man was right in front of him. He didn't even have time to blink before the mug was out of his hands and Harry was kissing him roughly.

 

It was one of their more passionate kisses, filled with lust and love and everything in between. Harry held his face between his large hands and pulled him closer so that he was straddling him. Harry's hands skated all over his body, touching and squeezing.

 

“Fuck, baby.” Harry panted. “I love you so fucking much.” Louis nodded and captured Harry's lips with his again. They stripped each other, one article of clothing at a time until they were both naked. Louis questioned Harry's scar and then kissed it when he found out what it was. They took their time, kissing while Harry opened Louis up, nice and slow. Louis' moans were lost in Harry's mouth as Harry filled him up and began to move. It didn't take long for either of them to come, both so worked up.

 

Afterwards, when Harry slipped out, they laid next to each other, heated skin pressed together. Hours later, when they're still in bed, wrapped up in each other, Louis admiring his new engagement ring and Harry his scarf, he turns to Louis.

 

“I lied.” He said into the quiet.

 

Louis furrowed his eyebrows and looked at Harry. “About what?”

 

Harry kissed his forehead. “There is no place I'd rather be than right here with you.”

**Author's Note:**

> WHOA shitty ending
> 
> whoops


End file.
